


Please Keep Your Hands to Yourself

by fangirlSevera



Series: The Black Sheep and Other Family Animals [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The New Adventures of Old Christine
Genre: Crossover, Dysfunctional Family, Humor, M/M, Meet the Family, Twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2013-03-26
Packaged: 2017-12-06 13:30:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/736235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirlSevera/pseuds/fangirlSevera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint finally gets to meet, Ritchie, Phil's nephew. Unfortunately, this also means meeting Ritchie's mother, "Old Christine." He also gets introduced to Barb, Christine's friend and the first person of Phil's extended family who doesn't immediately try flirting with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please Keep Your Hands to Yourself

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize again for taking forever to write one of these. Also again thank you to cruelest_month for taking a look and fixing typos. Not to mention the only other person I know who's watched enough "Old Christine" to assure me I'm writing the characters well enough.

"You ready for this?"

"I'm ready."

"I don't think he's ready."

Clint dropped his head back on the seat. He was stuck between twin brothers Phil and Richard in the the cab of Richard's pick-up. He wanted to remind Phil that he had faced far more dangerous and upsetting people and _things_ than an eccentric suburban divorcee.

Back in the airport Phil had even said, "I'd give you a briefing packet, but there are no words. You can only learn from experience."

"I was married to her, and I'm still never fully prepared for what lies within those walls." Richard's grip on the steering wheel tightened.

"And yet we're the weirdos who have been sitting in her driveway for the past twenty minutes, staring at her front door."

"Let's get this over with," Phil said, opening the truck door.

Clint climbed outside and Richard followed suit. He stopped them just at the front door and held up his hands. "Stay here a sec. Let me make sure she actually remembered you were coming. That Ritchie's actually here and she's not-"

"In the middle of something crazy or offensive?" Phil helped out.

Richard nodded and slipped inside the house without knocking. Clint crossed his arms and shook his head. "You guys are making such a huge deal over nothing."

"You keep believing that."

Richard came back out, relieved. "Okay, Ritchie's got some homework to finish. And Barb says Christine is busy making herself presentable. So, she'll be ready in another five years."

"Barb's here?" Phil cheered-up at the news.

"Yeah, come on." Richard opened the door again, leading them into what Clint had always suspected suburbia to look like, but never experienced first-hand.

"Phil! You sonuvabitch! It's been too long."

"Hi, Barb," Phil greeted a small dark-skinned woman with a genuine smile and a quick hug. "You're looking good."

"You're damn right I am." She turned to Clint, her appraising gaze judgmental. "So, this is the boy toy."

"I'm Clint." He was torn between offended and relieved that for once someone around here was unimpressed with him.

"You're breaking my heart, Phil. Always hoped we have one of those 'if neither of us are attached by forty, we'd just get together' things."

"Except forty is behind both of us and you've been married for most of the time I've known you."

"Yeah, well, going through a divorce now. Knew I should have done it sooner. Could've snatched you up before you found your stud."

Clint was not liking the way this woman openly discussed her plans for having his man, ignoring his presence entirely. "Shame you missed your window." Clint tried for a smile as he possessively grabbed Phil's hand.

Barb clicked her tongue. "Shame indeed."

"Leave them alone, Barb. It's not their fault you’re lonely and Phil's gay," Richard said from the kitchen where he was helping himself to sandwich fixings.

"I'm just teasing," Barb said, defending herself. "But seriously," she lowered her voice and leaned close to Clint. "The minute I hear this thing doesn't work out? I'm on him like a cat in heat."

"Duly noted."

She stepped away with a threatening look in her eye that reminded Clint simultaneously of both Hill and Fury. It almost made him shiver.

A thump and a curse came from further within the house.

"Sounds like her majesty's ready for her grand entrance," Richard said, carrying his sandwich into the living room and taking an armchair.

There was another thump, and a door opened. Out from the hallway stumbled another woman, dark hair falling over her face. She hastily tried to regain her balance and shoved her hair back. She beamed at Clint and extended her hand with a breathy, "Hiiii."

Clint looked askance at Phil. Phil had that particular expression on his face that meant he was using all his powers resisting an eye-roll. He looked back at who could only be Richard's ex-wife. Her tight grin hadn't faltered, bordering on manic and she still held her hand out. Clint took it for a quick shake. "Hi, I'm Clint."

She didn't let go of his hand. "I know you are."

"Christine, what are you wearing?" Richard demanded.

"What? I always dress like this at home."

"This" was a body-hugging, black dress with spaghetti straps that slipped off her shoulders and a pair of heels that made Clint wince to look at.

"Of course," Barb chimed in, "you do always dress like you're running a mid-brow brothel."

"Barb!" Christine released Clint's hand and turned to her friend. "I'm just trying to make a good first impression."

"You look very pretty," Phil told her.

"That's sweet, but it doesn't count when you say it." She raised her eyebrow at Clint.

"Ehm, you're pretty?"

Her grin returned and she flipped her hair over a shoulder. "Thanks. You're even cuter in person."

Phil stepped between Clint and Christine. "Can everyone please stop flirting with _my_ boyfriend?"

Clint was glad Phil finally said it, because he was about to himself, and probably wouldn't have thought of saying "please." And he didn't want to come off as too rude to Phil's family.

"Yeah, Christine, go change and leave the poor guy alone," Richard admonished her like he wasn't a huge hypocrite.

"And maybe you can let Ritchie know we're here on your way?" Phil not so subtly reminded everyone why they were really there in the first place.

Christine looked like she was about to argue, but deflated, almost literally as she dropped three inches as she slid out of her shoes. She turned away and was already half-undressed before she was out of sight of her company.

"So..." Clint said, "that's her."

Richard and Phil gave him unsettling matching looks of "Told you so."

Phil stepped away from Clint's side, making Clint realize how they've been standing awkwardly just inside the front door.

Phil made himself comfortable on the sofa, at the end closer to where Richard was sitting. The brothers started discussing the plans for renovating the old family cabin and what exactly their father had thought of the idea. Barb, who had been on the opposite end of the sofa, started shifting over to Phil's side. Clint moved quickly and plopped down in her path, earning him a deadly glare he returned. It quickly became a contest that Clint wasn't entirely sure was going to win. Barb's eyes narrowed and the corner of her mouth twitched in an intimidating sneer.

A draw was caused by the interruption of an excited "Uncle Phil!" A gangly tween with a mop of curly hair launched himself into Phil's lap. Phil caught him with a slight groan and a "Hey, kiddo!"

Clint couldn't help his grin. In the past several months of their relationship, he had seen many new sides of the supposedly unflappable agent's Agent. "Uncle Phil" was quickly becoming his favorite. Well, after Sex Beast, but it was a close second.

"Feeling a little neglected here," Richard mock pouted.

Ritchie turned, settling himself on Phil's knee and scrunched up his face. "I see you like every day. Uncle Phil's special." He then turned to Clint with a curious look.

"Hi," Clint said.

"Who're you?"

"I'm Clint."

"Oh!" The kid smiled. "Your Uncle Phil's boyfriend."

Christine, reemerging in a far more sensible outfit, tutted. "The term, Ritchie, is 'domestic partner.'"

"Uh, seeing as we don't live together," Clint said, "'boyfriend' is fine."

Christine put her hands on her hips. "I'm all about gay rights. So, I think I know what proper terminology is, okay?"

Clint opened his mouth, but Phil squeezed his elbow and gave him a slight head shake. Clint turned his attention to the kid again. "So, I've heard you know karate."

Ritchie instantly perked-up and jumped to his feet. "Yeah! You wanna see my moves?"

"Maybe some other time, sweetie," Richard said, hurriedly.

"Go on!" Barb cheered. "Show your new Uncle Clint your karate moves!" Ritchie didn't seem to notice her smile was less than friendly, nor that it was directed at his father, and not him.

Nor did anyone notice the way Phil made a choked-off sound at the "Uncle Clint." And even though Clint had joked about it himself, hearing someone else say it, and with the kid right there, the title made an undefinable jolt shoot up his spine.

The only one who looked authentically encouraging was Christine who perched herself on the arm of Richard's chair. Ritchie stood on the other side of the coffee table, took a deep breath and...

Clint's hand-to-hand combat training did not include karate. So although he was no expert, he was pretty sure what he was witnessing wasn't it. If Clint had to liken Ritchie's wriggling, spastic movements to anything, he was more like one of those dancing kids from that Charlie Brown Christmas cartoon.

He glanced around at the other adults. Christine was watching proudly. Richard was desperately trying not to grimace and failing. Phil watched stoically with his well-practiced, bland expression, but Clint could see the crinkle around his eyes that betrayed his amusement. Barb looked like she was watching the most entertaining display of her life, but again it was Richard's discomfort she was watching, not Ritchie. Clint hoped his own face expressed some kind noncommittal interest if nothing else.

Ritchie stopped moving. Christine started applauding enthusiastically. Phil and Richard shot each other bemused looks. Barb was clapping too and shouting "Encore!"

"What did you think?" Ritchie asked Clint.

Clint wracked his brain for something appropriate. "It was- uh- I've never seen anything quite like it."

Ritchie beamed. "That's what my instructor says!"

"I think," Phil said, nudging Clint with his knee, "that deserves a present."

"Oh, yeah." Clint reached inside the thigh pocket of his cargo pants and slipped out a slim PSP game case.

"Present!" Ritchie nearly jumped over the coffee table to grab it from Clint's hands.

"Hey, what do we say?" Christine reminded him.

"Thanks, Uncle Phil, Uncle Clint." He even gave Clint a quick hug before scurrying back to his room to play. There was that unnamable jolt going through Clint again, along with that weird noise from Phil's throat.

Phil covered it with clearing his throat and asking, "Is Matthew not here?"

"Hiding in his room again," Christine said with a roll of her eyes. "I tried telling him that _obviously_ agents from the _Matrix_ don't have hot boyfriends, but he just insisted it's a cover and Clint's some kind of Terminator assassin."

"I'm sorry," Clint asked, "who's Matthew?"

"My idiot brother."

"And how old is he?"

"Mentally or physically?" She snorted. "Oh! I have been a terrible host!" She slid off the chair arm. "I haven't offered anyone anything to drink! Clint, come help me open some wine." She made grabby hands at him. "Gonna need those nice, big arms of yours."

"Stop it," Phil warned.

"What? I'm not flirting. Just making an observation." All the same, Clint was pretty sure he felt a pinch at his rear as he walked past her.

The kitchen was separated from the living room only by a row of low counters. Clint watched as Barb scooted over to Phil's side, throwing Clint a smug smirk. Clint shook his head and gave her an "eyes on you" gesture. Barb raised an eyebrow and put her hand on Phil's knee. Phil, without pausing his conversation with Richard, immediately removed it. It was Clint's turn to smirk. Barb's shoulders lowered in a silent yet dramatic sigh.

Before the mime game could continue, Christine was setting three bottles of wine in front of Clint. He chuckled. "Got enough?"

"Ooh, you're right!" And Christine pulled a fourth out.

Clint eyed the line. "Four bottles for four people? Might as well forgo glasses, and take a bottle each."

Christine grinned and shut the cupboard. "I like the way you think!"

"I was joking."

Christine stared at him, and took too long to say. "I know that." She opened the cupboard again, but with diminished enthusiasm.

Clint started uncorking the bottles, aware of Christine at his side, watching him closely. "You know, if you and Phil want kids, I promised him I'd be surrogate."

Clint yanked out the cork with a loud pop. "Excuse me?"

Christine grabbed one of the opened bottles and poured herself a drink. "Oh, yeah. I decided years ago. I mean, you've seen how cute Ritchie is. And since Phil and Richard's DNA are the the same, Phil's sperm and my eggs will guarantee you a Ritchie clone."

"Oh, God!" Clint slammed his last bottle down, a splash of wine came out of the neck and dotted his hand. "Never, ever talk about your eggs and Phil's sperm, either combined or separately, in from of me again! And a Ritchie clone? DNA doesn't work that way!"

Christine took a step back at his outburst, but recovered herself to scoff. "Excuse me, but which one of us here actually has experience with making babies?"

Clint had no response to that. His brain went temporarily offline at the onslaught of- of... Was it insanity, stupidity, or some awful combination of both?

Off his befuddlement, Christine just tilted her chin up and said, "That's what I thought!"

Clint literally bit his tongue. With a huff, he turned away from her and stalked back into the living room. "We need to talk," Clint said, pulling Phil from the couch.

Phil led him outside. Before he closed the patio doors shut behind him, Richard could be heard, upset at Christine for "driving Clint away." And Barb was saying, "You were telling relative strangers about your eggs again, weren't you?"

"We tried to warn you," Phil said.

Clint paced, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. "What is- How? I mean... That!"

"I am well aware of my reputation for maintaining calm and patience even in the face of frustrating people and bizarre circumstances. It didn't come without practice."

"No wonder you're such a bad-ass. I've been captured and psychologically tortured for hours, and came out pretty okay. I was slightly alone with her for five minutes, and I broke."

"Hey," Phil stepped close and ran his hands soothingly up and down Clint's arms. "We're going to get through this day. And from now on, if you want to see Ritchie again, we'll arrange it for when only Richard has him."

"I want to nab that kid away from here and at least get him some proper self-defense training."

Phil shook his head and laughed. "Sorry, but we've determined that Ritchie's completely untrainable. But, he's having fun, and he's happy. Even for all of their being weird and occasionally horrible people, Christine and Richard love him and always do their best for him. They're surprisingly decent parents. And when they're not, he's got his Uncle Matthew, Barb, New Christine, me... You."

"That's one damn lucky kid."

"He just may rise above genetics and become a decent human being."

"Hell, I didn't have half as many people looking out for me, and I turned out okay."

"Eventually," Phil conceded.

The patio doors opened and Ritchie's head poked out. "Mom says I'm suppose to look imploringly cute at you until you agree to come back inside." He fully stepped outside, and held up his PSP. "Also, I'm stuck in this one part. Can you help me get past it?"

"Sorry," Phil said, "I'm not very good at video games, but your Uncle Clint is."

The jolt returned, but it was no longer strange and uncomfortable. It was more like a spreading warmth. Clint smiled. "Yeah, kid, I'm awesome at killing bad guys."

"Cool!" Ritchie skipped back indoors.

"Guess I'm going back in there."

"How about a kiss for courage?"

"That might work."

Phil was happy to oblige.

The rest of day was easier with Ritchie monopolizing Clint's attention. He wasn't unaware of the surreptitious photos being taken of him, especially since he knew one of the perpetrators was Phil, wanting pictures of Clint together with his nephew.

Even the elusive Matthew appeared, his need for dinner overcoming his wariness of Phil. Clint wondered if he should be concerned, given just how close to the truth Matthew actually was, just without the robot parts. Phil reassured him that his ex-brother-in-law had grown-up rather geeky and watched too many movies.

"But he's the only one around here who pegged you for the bad-ass you are. Maybe he's more observant than you're giving him credit for."

"Just because he's right, doesn't mean it's not paranoia."

"So, basically, they're all crazy."

"Yes. But, as far as families go, I suppose they could be worse."

Clint slipped his fingers between Phil's and gave them a squeeze. "Don't I know it."

**Author's Note:**

> Now that Clint's been established to all the main characters from "New Adventures of Old Christine," the next story will finally get us more in the Marvel universe. Let's just say, that after the events of the movie, certain Avengers may think "family only" hospital visits totally means them, and Phil's two worlds collide... Messily.


End file.
